


Meet me at the Coffee Shop

by WilwyWaylan



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enjolras needs coffee, M/M, also a christmas market, alternating povs, because christmas markets are Important, because it's funnier, grantaire is annoying, just fluff, meet cute, pure fluff, very indulgent, very tropey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28093848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WilwyWaylan/pseuds/WilwyWaylan
Summary: Nothing can get in the way of Enjolras' coffee, not even a barista who flirts with everyone. Well, maybe not everyone. Maybe just with angry, pretty blonds. Or so it seems.
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21
Collections: Les Mis Holiday Exchange (2020)





	Meet me at the Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KFlynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KFlynn/gifts).



> Have a happy end of the year with that fic ! I took... or rather the text took some liberties with your prompt, but I hope it'll satisfy you !

Enjolras dashed out of the subway exit, running up the stairs to go faster. He had been up for four hours now, rushing to get his last paper ready before the impossibly tight deadline given by his ethics professor. He'd finished it in the nick of time and delivered it, foregoing the spellcheck step to make sure he wouldn't be late. Of course, the first train of the day endured a mishap, and the next one was so crowded even he couldn't get in. He reached the university as the sun rose behind the roofs, getting his shoes drenched in the puddles on the alleys. But he managed to reach the office before the clock struck 8 AM, and could hand deliver the essay. The professor had looked like he had bitten into a very large, very bitter lemon, but hadn't made any smart remarks. Not that Enjolras would have listened anyway. 

But now, he needed coffee. Large, strong, and right now. And of course, there wasn't any respectable coffee shop around the campus. Chain-owned one, as many as you want. You couldn't throw a stone without hitting three or four of them. But Enjolras would be caught dead before he got into one of these dens of inequity and bad coffee. No, he needed a good, fair trade coffee in a nice establishment. Nothing else would do.

  
Finally, he spotted what he was looking for. A nice little coffee shop. It was a little setback from the street, as if hiding from the common folk to reveal itself to those worthy. Enjolras didn't know if he was worthy of... coffee or anything, but he had noticed the little shop freshly painted in black. Leaves adorned the front, and he at first had believed it to be covered in ivy, but a closer inspection had revealed that they had been all carefully painted. The window was clean, and two words were painted on it : Café Victor. Sounded promising. To be fair, Enjolras would have accepted any strangely named shop as long as it could provide him with the coffee he was looking for. 

A two-sided chalkboard was set near the door, with a list of all the delicacies one could get in the coffee-shop. The handwriting was pretty, very adorned, a few birds drawn here and there. But Enjolras cared little for the calligraphy, and a lot for what it promised. And the first item on the board was, of course, coffee. He glanced at his watch. It was open, had been for one hour already. Perfect. 

There was a small line in front of the counter. He stepped at the end, and prepared to wait. It was cosy, at least. A large counter, a room with small tables surrounded by chairs or stools. Everything was either light wood or painted black like every hip coffee shop in town. But that one had lots of plants everywhere, on the counter, on windowsills, between the tables, so much greenery that it half-looked like a greenhouse. Every available surface on the wall had been covered with frames : drawings, paintings, photographies... Every one was busting with colours, bringing life to the otherwise drab walls. 

The line was slow, and Enjolras was starting to get agitated. He could tell Combeferre that he didn't need coffee that much until his face turned blue, but he was feeling the effect of a severe lack in caffeine. He could go home and try to make some, of course, he hadn’t bought his spaceship of a coffee maker for nothing. But it would mean half an hour to get there, and he wanted coffee now. Beside, encouraging small shops was the way to go. But could he go a little faster ? He didn't know what was taking so long. But it was. The barista seemed to be professional and fast at making his drinks. But he was chatting non stop, throwing compliments and talking about everything under the sun. No wonder it was taking so long. Enjolras looked at the time on his phone, and sighed. This was going to be long.

~*~

If someone had told Grantaire that he would one day enjoy a regular job with regular hours, he would have laughed in their face. And then at their knees because he would probably have fallen on the ground laughing. But here he was, behind his counter, having gotten up at the crack of dawn, chatting amiably with people while mixing the weirdest drinks, without wanting to bite them or run away screaming. Of course, he sometimes got some weird or aggravating ones, but he let it slide. He had his favourites, his regulars, people who came to him for their coffee fix, and a bit of a chat, and he delivered. And worst of it, he was _liking it_. 

Today was an extra-chirpy day. That's how he called the days where he got up before the alarm rang and his mind was already filled to the brim with ideas for drawings and paintings. He had even picked up guitar playing again ! It put him in a perfect mood, and also made him extra chatty. And he was working a job that allowed to have long conversations with his customers, wasn't it perfect ? 

So he welcomed them, made small talk with his regulars while he was getting their favourite drinks ready, about the weather, the projects, the families, everything and anything. Some of them were happy to answer, others were still quite silent at this hour, so he kept quiet. There was a nice line in front of the counter, several customers eager for coffee and hand-made pastries. Good for business, very good. And people were sill coming in while he was working. 

He was working on a caramel-flavoured coffee with some whippe cream when the door chime rang again, and he glanced at the newcomer. Blond, dressed in red, reading glasses. Not a regular, no one he'd ever seen before. The sight pleased him. The Café Victor was bringing in new customers. It made him even happier, and he welcomed the next customer in line, an old lady who had several cats. He loved talking with her, she always had very intriguing stories about the various hijinks of the ones she called her children. He started making her green tea, listening intently to her last cat story.

~*~

Enjolras counted the people in front of him, sighed once more. There were still two people in front of him. He was feeling like he'd been here for several hours already. But according to his phone, it had been only ten minutes. Ten long minutes. That felt even longer because of his damp shoes. And the line wasn't moving. Probably because the barista was too busy chatting instead of doing his work. Okay, so maybe that was a little bit mean. He was at least doing something that was the source of this delicious coffee smell. But why was it taking so long ? 

He stood on his toes to get a better look. Ah. Of course the barista was talking with everyone and anyone. That's why. He cursed inwardly. Of all the coffee shops in town, he had to opt for the one where the barista just couldn't shut up. If he wasn't so exhausted, he would have gotten out of here and looked for another one. But now that he was here... Finally, finally, the next person walked to the counter to order. Enjolras didn't mean to eavesdrop, of course, but he couldn't really help it, being so close and all, 

\- So, the barista all but cooed, how is the prettiest lumberjack this side of the Seine today ?

Instead of getting angry at being called "pretty" by another guy, the customer just let out a booming laugh.

\- Only this side, you're not very generous today !

They started talking about sports, and Enjolras immediately tuned them out. Not that he thought that talking about sports was indicative of anything, but it was really really boring to him. He scrolled through the news again, trying to find something to occupy himself with, but nothing had happened in the last ten minutes. He was forced to look elsewhere for entertainment. The frames on the walls would do. The photographies were nice, black and white snippets of small things, and they were carefully arranged to provide a counterpoint to the coloUrs of the drawings. Pretty drawings, by the way, made by different artists, but always very soft, almost... hopeful. A bigger painting was hanging above a small stage at the end of the room, a large, abstract piece in vibrant colors scattered across the black canvas. A beautiful piece. 

\- Hello, Sunshine, what will it be today ?

~*~ 

Bahorel gave Grantaire finger-guns, grabbed his coffee and left. Grantaire just shook his head : count on him to be the only man alive to get away with doing that. He turned to his next customer, and emitted a strangled noise that sounded a bit like someone stepping on a squeaky toy. As the proud barista of a very nice coffee shop, he'd seen his fair share of beautiful persons - traditionally beautiful persons - and as a lover of arts, he knew a pretty person when he saw one.

The one standing in front of him was... oh god above, was there even a word for this kind of being ? Did they descend right from Heaven, stopping for a bit of coffee before going back to a realm of ethereal beings as beautiful as them ? _Be still, my heart_ , he thought, trying not to stare too much. But he was starring. Oh yes, he was. The hair caught his eye first. A blond cascade of curls, bouncing and spilling around his face, barely held by a hair-tie, falling down his back almost to his hips. Hair he'd only seen in fairy tales books. As did his face. Right now, he was looking at the wall, offering Grantaire a perfect view of his profile, delicately lined by the morning light. It was so exquisite, with perfect cheekbones and a high forehead where small curls were resting.

Rosy lips, just plump enough to beg for a kiss. The nose was just a little too long, but it fit none-the-less. And in this perfect face, like jewels in a setting, eyes blue as the sky, lined with lashes made of gold. The black-rimmed glasses were a bit too hipstery for his tastes, but nothing could detract from that beautiful angel. 

It was a miracle Grantaire didn't faint on the spot or ask for his hand, or any of the myriads of stupid things that crossed his mind. He cleared his throat, and said in a perfectly-normal sounding voice :

\- Hello, Sunshine, what will it be today ?

~*~

Enjolras frowned at the nickname. Another one of those Casanova wannabes. Probably thought that he was a girl, with his long hair. Well, fuck him in advance. He walked to the counter, and said in his sternest voice :

\- The tallest coffee you got. Black. Two sugars. Please, he added.

Being aggravated didn't mean he could forego manners. The man just nodded and set himself to work. He was moving with... a certain grace, Enjolras had to admit. Light on his feet, despite the muscular arms nicely outlined by his black shirt. And even nicer were the tattoos covering them. Cloud in pastels arose around his right wrist, climbing all the way to the elbow where they erupted in flowers in vivid colours. The left arm was covered in an intricate pattern of ivy leaves around text too small to read. Enjolras had to admire them, they were just in front of him, after all. 

\- That will be two minutes, Sunshine.

\- Do not call me sunshine, Enjolras snapped.

If he thought he had scared the barista into behaving, he was sorely mistaken. The man's smile widened, a crescent of white on darker skin. 

\- Don’t you dare mock me, Enjolras growled.

\- Oh, I wouldn't dare. Your eyes would stab me like shards of ice and I would promptly die on the spot.

Enjolras could feel the heat slowly climbing on his cheeks. Oh, good, now he was blushing, and he hated that. The barista probably sensed his anger, because the cheeky grin morphed into a mostly apologetic smile.

\- Okay, sorry, he said. I can be an ass. But I don't mean to anger you. 

Enjolras let out a huff, but he nodded. The barista grabbed a cup and a marker.

\- Can I get the name ? Or will it be "Sunshine" ?

Enjolras was almost tempted to tell him off, but he really, really wanted that coffee. So he obeyed, paid, and stepped to the side to wait while the barista greeted the next customer with a wink and a large gesture. 

~*~

Grantaire knew he was acting up, but the blond was looking at him, almost murderous. Probably didn't like the nickname. Oh well, Grantaire could still try to play it cool. Maybe if he made a good coffee, he would be forgiven. So he set himself to work, carefully calibrating the machine to get its best. Two minutes later exactly, he put a cup of coffee in front of the blond boy.

\- Here you are !

Blondie - Enjolras - grabbed the cup, gave him only a nod, and turned to leave. Which was what Grantaire really didn't want, but what could he do beside let him go and hope that he would come back ? So he watched him leave, half-regretting that the blond was wearing only some kind of shapeless sweat pants. He probably looked awesome in normal pants... Oh well, maybe next time. A guy could always hope.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Enjolras stop outside the shop and take a sip of coffee. The cup didn't land on the window. On the contrary, he left, with what seemed like a little bounce on his step. Grantaire grinned. Another victory for the Café Victor.

~*~

Three days later, Grantaire was wiping his counter, trying to remember where he was on the stocks and how many towels he needed to buy, when the doorbell chimed. He glanced at the newcomer, and his heart gave a little beat. The sun had just decided to shine for him alone, or perhaps it was just the blond guy from last time who just stepped inside. He looked angry at something, but perhaps this time, it wasn't his fault. Yet.  
Blondie - Enjolras, he recalled, because of course he did - stepped to the counter, and gave his order. The same as last time, too, Grantaire could have done it without even being asked. Black coffee, with sugar, gigantic. The guy probably ran on coffee alone. He surely had the attitude. Probably burnt so much energy during the day that he needed the boost to get through the day. Grantaire had only got one nice look at him, but he had noticed the shadows under his eyes, purple and delicate. Probably hadn’t gotten enough sleep for years. 

Grantaire scrawled the name on the cup just for the fun of it, filled it to the brim, screwed the lid on and gave it to the blond. They locked eyes for a second, and Grantaire really thought he was going to die here and there. Or at least do a happy dance. Enjolras was even prettier up close. Tiny, too, if he was to judge by the counter's height. Tiny, pretty, and full of righteous fury. The bag at his shoulder was covered with badges and patches bearing slogans. An activist. Maybe even an idealist ? Exactly the person that Grantaire wasn't but loved to rile. Oh, he could get so much fun with him. But then, he would lose his patronage, and that would surely be a huge loss. So he settled for a light ribbing.

\- Here you go, Sunshine. Strong and sweet, just like you.

Enjolras' face turned red again. He opened his mouth, certainly ready to bite his head off, then appeared to decide against it. He grabbed his coffee and left, to Grantaire's greatest delight. He was wearing jeans, today, very nice jeans that were clinging to his legs and... Grantaire was only human, after all, and he couldn't help it but admire what nature and probably exercise had shaped. 

Enjolras stopped when he glanced at the cup, and Grantaire half-dived under the counter to giggle. It was the second time he had carefully written the name, in beautiful calligraphy. Or rather, "Angel-ras". Good to know his art wasn't getting ignored. Enjolras glared at him, even harder than the first time.

\- This is not funny.

The tone was as icy as his eyes, but at least, the coffee didn't come back to him. Enjolras just left, with his precious coffee. Grantaire watched him go, chin planted in his hand. He probably wouldn't see Enjolras ever again. Too bad. But it was worth it.

~*~

Two weeks later, Enjolras found himself face to face with the Café Victor again. He'd been running to get their next flyers printed on time, and in a strange recreation of his first time here, found himself at eight in the morning in front of the coffee shop. And it was time for coffee. Warm, and good coffee. Except that this time, not only did he step into puddles, he was soaked to the bone due to the rain that kept falling since he had realized he had forgotten to wear a coat. The lights were shining behind the window, warm and welcoming through the now pouring rain. His feet had led him there while he was busy informing the others on the advance of his task. Go to a place a half-dozen times and your brain decides it's your favourite in the world. Oh well. Good, fair trade coffee was a rarity in this town, and was worth a barista flirting with him like there was no tomorrow.

He pushed the door, shivering and trying to get warm, to not avail. He was drenched to the bone, his hoodie just a rag hanging on his shoulders, his hair dripping on the floor. Luckily, there were only one other person in the coffee shop, a boy with short hair, wrapped in a scarf a mile long, currently talking at a mile an hour with the barista. Said barista was nodding along while getting the drinks ready, "hmm"ing at the right places and smiling. Not a word of flirt in sight. The guy finally grabbed a tray with several drinks piled on it and carried it to a table where a man and a woman were waving at him. The man got up to take the tray, but the woman stopped him and got up to do it herself.

Enjolras walked to the counter. The barista watched his friend for a few seconds more, then turned his attention to him. His eyes immediately widened almost comically. Enjolras would have laughed, if he wasn't trying to keep desperately warm. He was starting to feel faint, probably a lack of sugar or too many dazzling lights. The barista rushed around the corner, grabbed him by a soaked sleeve and dragged him to a stool where he almost pushed him. Enjolras had to grab the counter to keep upright. The guy with the scarf had rushed to his side, and was grabbing his wrist. Enjolras wanted to take it back, but the barista put a hand on his shoulder.

\- Relax. Joly's a doctor, he knows what he's doing.

\- Doctor-in-training, the guy - Joly - corrected in an automatic tone. His heart is racing, he added. You're pale. Did you eat well this morning ? Or enough ? Vitamins ? You need vitamins ! Grantaire, get him vitamins ! 

\- What I'm gonna bring him is something else to wear. 

The barista - Grantaire - left. Enjolras didn't even know he was called Grantaire. To be fair, his badge today was wearing a large smiley face and nothing else. He was half-tempted to get up and tell them all to leave him alone, he was only there for coffee, not for a complete check-up ! But it seemed like a huge effort, all of a sudden. So he let Joly check his forehead and fuss around him.

Grantaire came back a few minutes alter. He nodded at Joly's friends who had moved behind the counter, and threw something on the table in front of Enjolras.

\- Here, he announced. They will probably be too big for you, but at least they're dry. And don't mind the paint drops, they just can't be taken off.

Enjolras looked at the bundle. Something green with... yes, paint drops, and something black. Clothes. Wait, why did the guy have clothes and why was he giving them to him ? He wanted to ask, but Joly all but pushed him towards the bathroom, urging him to go "before he caught his death or something". Enjolras relented. 

As Grantaire has said, the clothes were big on him. Gigantic, even. The pants were more like leggings, and he had to roll them at the ankles. They were fitting, but luckily, the sweater was large and fell to his mid-thigh, like some kind of baggy dress. It was very weird, wearing someone else's clothes, but at least it was dry, and he wasn't complaining. 

He finally stepped out of the bathroom, gingerly. He'd barely walked back to the table, that something dry fell on his head. Joly's friend, the beautiful lady, was holding what looked subreptitiously like a dish towel.

\- Sorry, Honey, she said. That's all we have. 

Enjolras muttered some thanks and started trying to dry his hair. He needed to braid it fast, or it would quickly gain too much volume and he'd look like some very long-haired sheep. It felt weird, having all those strangers being worried around him. Usually, that was Combeferre's role, and a bit Courfeyrac's too. It felt different... but quite nice. 

A tray was deposited in front of him. There was a large cup of coffee on it, along a glass of orange juice and two croissants that looked very much hand-made and not defrosted. 

\- I haven't ordered all that, he said.

\- Doctor's order, Grantaire retorted.

\- Doctor in training !

\- Shut up, Joly. Joly's order, he added, turning back to Enjolras. It's on the house. Let's say it's because I've been an annoying little gremlin.

\- But you're a sweet gremlin, the lady added, kissing Grantaire on the head. 

They left to go back behind the counter. Enjolras was grateful, he wasn't very keen on someone watching him eat. He still felt very weird about the whole situation, but he was starting to warm up, and the coffee was delicious, as was the rest. He watched people come and go as he ate, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversations. 

When he was done, he brought the tray back. Grantaire was chatting with a customer, and Enjolras stayed on the side, waiting his turn. They seemed in friendly terms, but Grantaire didn't pepper his speech with endearments. Maybe the person just didn't like it. Now that he thought about it, he didn't quite flirt with everyone that came in. Maybe it was just reserved to a few selected one. Including, sadly, himself. Finally, Grantaire let his customer go, and turned to him. Enjolras handed him the tray.

\- I'll bring you the clothes back next time, he added.

\- I'd say "don't fret it", but if this means I'll have the pleasure of your visit earlier, then by all means, you can even stay there and wait until yours are dry. 

Enjolras was half-tempted to hit him over the head with his soaked hoodie, but that wouldn't have been very nice. The man was aggravating, but he didn't have to help him. So he just rolled his eyes, gave him a polite goodbye, and left without another word. 

~*~

It had been a pleasant day so far. No bad surprises like a failing fridge, no nasty customer. Okay, just one, but Bahorel's presence at the end of the counter deterred the complainer from doing worst than drag his feet and protest a little. He liked days like this, even with the rain tapping against the window. But a little voice was turning at the back of Grantaire's head, and it was getting hard to ignore its little song. Yes, he knew that he hadn't seen Enjolras for a few days, even as the blond has promised to bring the clothes back. He knew it, and he'd been watching intently every person coming in, hoping to see a blond mane and sky blue eyes. So far, no chance.

He was absorbed in the confection of one of Bahorel's monstrosities, a hot chocolate that contained way too much sugar and cream, when the doorbell announced a new customer. A flash of red caught his eye, and he almost dropped the cup. Only due to his nerves of steel could he catch it. He brought it to Bahorel, who had watched Enjolras come in, and turned to face him. 

\- And here I thought the day would drown under the rain, but it seemed that the sun has finally decided to shine upon us !

Enjolras frowned, but didn't hit him with his umbrella, instead depositing a bag on the counter. The clothes, perfectly folded. Grantaire didn't pen him as someone who would carefully fold clothes. But there was something to be said about looks and deception. He grabbed the bag, smiled at Enjolras. 

\- Thank you.

\- I'm the one who should thank you, Enjolras said. That was really helpful. 

\- I couldn't let you stay in those clothes. Joly would have had my head.

\- And I wanted to pay for the breakfast. 

Grantaire lifted both hands to stop him before he could get his wallet out. 

\- No no no. I said it's on the house, and that's final. 

\- You can't just give someone breakfast like this, Enjolras protested.

\- I can, I did, I have and I will. It was a medically-ordered breakfast.

Enjolras gave a long-suffering sigh, but seemed to resign. 

\- So, Grantaire asked, what will it be ? A giant coffee ?

\- Yes, and...

Enjolras bit his lip. Grantaire inwardly cursed. He didn't have any right to be so adorable. Of course, due to his reaction to a bit of ribbing, he would certainly bite his head off if he read his thoughts. He started preparing his coffee, waiting for the next part. Enjolras was clearly mulling over something, and it wouldn't do any good trying to get it out of him. So he just focused on the drink.

When Grantaire put the coffee in front of him, he still hadn't spat it out. Grantaire walked to Bahorel, who was savouring his drink, wiped the counter to regain some composure. He knew Bahorel was looking at him, probably with a gigantic smile, but luckily, he didn't make any joke or anything. 

\- Can I ask you something ? Enjolras finally asked.

Grantaire refrained from yelling something like "HE CAN SPEAK" and fall to the ground. He threw his rag on his shoulder, walked back to him, hoping to look professional. 

\- I...

Enjolras cleared his throat, started again.

\- I'm part of a club, we.... do social activism sometimes.

Grantaire could have guessed so, just judging by the pins and also Enjolras' expression that seemed to want to fight the whole world at once. Another bleeding-heart hero. He nodded.

\- I was wondering if maybe, it was okay to put a poster for it and our next meeting, maybe not directly on the window but somewhere ? I also have a stack of flyers, but I don't know if...

He was suddenly looking very nervous, far from the assured man he'd seen until then. Grantaire hold out his hand. 

\- Show me that poster.

Enjolras gave him a look of hope and uncertainty. He held out the rolled sheet he'd been clinging on until now. Grantaire unrolled it. It was... less worse than he'd thought. Not a "call to arms, overthrow the government, eat the rich" kind of poster, just an invitation to talk about social subjects and things like that. On the other hand, it was absolutely hideous. Whoever designed that thing certainly was no graphic student, or even dilettante. Grantaire lifted an eyebrow, that Enjolras certainly took as a disagreement. He made a move to take it back, but Grantaire held it out of this reach.

\- If it's not... he started.

\- It's okay, Grantaire cut him, I'll put it up. But, not that I want to be a dick, but you may want to find someone else to design your posters. Those are... well, it's a great way to catch someone's attention, but to keep it...

\- We're just a student club. Well, students and workers. 

\- No graphic design student or something ?

Enjolras shook his head.

\- If you find someone, he retorted, you can tell me. 

\- I will. Anything else ?

\- I don't want to push it, but...

He riffled through his bag and pulled out a stack of papers.

\- Can I leave you some of the flyers ? 

Grantaire didn't really know what to say. He wasn't very keen on advertising a social justice club. In his eyes, it was a waste of time. Things wouldn't move just like that. But he couldn't say this, now, could he ? One, he would certainly lose a valuable customer. And two, Enjolras was looking at him without anger or annoyance for once, and he couldn't let this chance slide. 

\- Okay, he relented, put them near the register.

Enjolras gave him such a smile that Grantaire thought he would go blind from the sheer brightness of it. He moved to the coffee machine to give himself something to do and give his hands enough time to stop shaking. Enjolras thanked him, grabbed his drink and left. Grantaire focused on his task. He could _feel_ Bahorel smile behind him and he didn't really need that. Just something to get his heartbeat back to normal. 

Bahorel moved to grab one of the flyers, read it with attention. 

\- Sounds fun, he said.

\- What, you plan on joining them ? I didn't see you as so concerned by social issues and the like.

\- Man, I'm offended. It's not because I'm privileged that I can't find an interest in those causes.

Grantaire had to admit that he had a point. he and his big mouth, did he really need to offend everyone around him ? But Bahorel added :

\- Besides, all those clubs and meetings are always a good occasion for a fight. Could be fun.

Ah. Of course. 

\- Then go and have fun. Break havoc and sow sedition, my friend. And don't forget to tell me if Blondie is really a total dweeb.

\- Will do. See you !

With that, he was out the door with his flyer, leaving Grantaire to replay Enjolras' smile in his mind again and again.

~*~

Enjolras hesitated at the Café Victor door, hand on the handle. Bahorel, the new recruit for les Amis de l'ABC, had advised him to come there on this day, at this hour. He had refused to tell him why, just really insisted that it would be a "good time". Seeing as Bahorel had already sparked a fight with a man who insisted on spouting non-inclusive rhetoric on feminism and started two arm-wrestling contests, Enjolras wasn't sure they had the same definition of "good time". 

But still, here he was, unsure of what to do. He spotted the ABC poster on the window, and it made him smile a little to see that Grantaire had held his promise. There was another one, smaller, just beside it. "Open mic night", it said. So that was what Bahorel had meant. But why send him here ? There was only one way to know, after all. So he pushed the door. 

The tables around the counter were empty, as was Grantaire's space behind it. But there were lights shining on the left part of the room, and soft music playing coming from there. Enjolras stepped forward. The lights were shining on the small stage. And on the stage, sitting on a stool, was Grantaire. An old guitar was resting on his knee, and he was pinching the strings delicately. There was a microphone on a base in front of him, but he was just moving his fingers on the neck, coaxing the notes in arpeggio. It was quite pretty, even a little soothing, and Enjolras leaned on the wall to better listen. 

And then Grantaire bent a little forward, closer to the microphone, and started singing. 

_Quand le jour sera levé_   
_Quand nos draps seront lavés_   
_Quand les oiseaux envolés_   
_Des rues où l'on s'est aimés_   
_Il ne restera rien de nous._

Enjolras could only stare, mouth hanging open. In a million years, he would have expected Grantarie to have such a nice voice. His talking voice was low, almost rumbling, always a bit biting, but now... now it was husky, raspy, and so melodic. Carrying each note perfectly.

_Quand nos îles seront noyées_   
_Quand nos ailes seront broyées_   
_Quand la clé sera rouillée_   
_Du trésor qu'ils ont fouillé_   
_Il ne restera rien de nous._

He looked so peaceful, bent over his instruments, eyes closed to better enjoy his music. Everything hit Enjolras at once, the small curls escaping his beanie, moving along with the rhythm, the muscles on his arms moving under the tattoed skin, the small smile tugging on his lips, almost tender, the colourful drawings on the guitar, and the fingers, thin and bony, caressing the strings so gently, coaxing to better make them sing... 

_Laisse moi, un peu de toi_   
_Une ride, avant le vide_   
_Un extrait de tes traits_   
_Laisse moi, un peu de toi_

The last notes flew away, fading into silence. And suddenly, there was a bunch of applause. Enjolras blinked once, twice. He hadn't even noticed that there were people sitting on the tables, watching the show. To be fair, the room was dark, but he had zeroed on Grantaire, totally ignoring everything else. 

Grantaire tuned the guitar a little, then started another song. Enjolras didn't know what he should do, run or listen, but Grantaire's voice pinned him in place. 

_Take my hand, take my whole life too  
_ _'Cause I can't help falling in love with you._

He was singing again, and Enjolras was feeling weird again. He could only focus on Grantaire's voice, Grantaire's hands, Grantaire's head marking the beat. His cheeks were burning, and something in his chest was feeling very heavy. Probably a fever, maybe something worse ? He'd been through the rain without anything, and now he had caught something just like this ? This wasn't normal. He should go home and get some rest. And still, he didn't move an inch. 

Grantaire suddenly opened his eyes, and looked past the stage, past the people in the audience, directly at Enjolras. He looked surprised to see him there, but to his credit, didn't miss a note. He kept looking at him as he finished the song, the green of his eyes way too bright under the spotlights. It was too much for Enjolras. He turned tail and ran out of the coffee shop, almost breaking the door in his hast to get out. The cold air outside helped him calm down, but he still ran all the way to the subway, trying to leave the strange feeling that had overcome him behind.

~*~

Grantaire had felt quite moody those last few days. It made a striking contrast with how he'd been feeling before, and he didn't like one inch. His inspiration had gone through the window, leaving him with only one thing to draw again and again. And of course, it had to be Enjolras' face. He'd already filled a whole sketchbook with it, portraits, full-length drawings, sketches, paintings, pencil, crayons, markers... A world of Enjy that he couldn't look at any more, and couldn't bear to stop adding to. It was hell. 

He knew perfectly while he was in this slump, and since when. And he really, really didn't understand what had gotten into him. Had Enjolras been offended by his song ? He looked pretty affected, or so Grantaire thought, but he didn't think it would insult him. He didn't even pick the song because of him, because he didn't even know that he would be there. It just was one of his favourites. And before he could talk to him, before he even recovered from the shock of seeing him, Enjolras had left, and hadn't come back since. Grantare was tempted to ask Bahorel about his whereabouts, but it wouldn't do. He was also tempted to rip the poster off the window, but that also wouldn't do. And would be a bit too low for him.

He'd grabbed one of the flyers and was doodling on the back - another Enjy, how strange ! - when the door opened. His heart did a little leap when he recognized the red hoodie. He straightened a little, trying to remember when he'd washed his hair. Enjolras didn't look at him, kept his eyes on the counter. The counter where his drawing was currently resting, visible to anyone. Grantaire grabbed it, but it was too late. Oh, perfect. It was just getting better and better, now, was it ? Enjolras was playing with the strap of his bag, and Grantaire stopped himself from thinking it was cute. 

\- Hi, he said in his most corporate tone, what will it be today ?

Enjolras' head shot up, but he lowered it as fast. 

\- The usual, please, he answered.

\- That will be two minutes. 

Grantaire set himself to work, focusing on each step of the way as not to think of Enjolras' closeness, and the way he was looking at him. Or not. Not that he did care, after all. he was bringing the cup - without any name - to the counter, when Enjolras suddenly asked :

\- Were you drawing me ?

\- Not at all, Grantaire hurriedly answered. I was...

\- It's really beautiful.

Grantaire's brain promptly went into overload. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Luckily, Enjolras didn't look up, or he would have taken to the hills at the sight. 

\- It's just... he tried. You know. A test. Practice.

\- I still think it's beautiful.

Grantaire had to bit his lip to refrain from doing something stupid. Since Enjolras had come in, he'd felt caught in some kind of Twilight-zone-esque situation, where everything was weird and distorted and not happening like it had to. Normally, when faced with someone flirting with them and drawing their faces, people tended to run away and not look back. But Enjolras was still there, looking at the drawing - at his own face. It was not normal. A pretty man like Enjolras shouldn't act like someone like Grantaire being somewhat of a creep was something acceptable. Even he knew that. Enjolras could get anyone he wanted, why would he show even the slightest tolerance for Grantaire's antics ?

And still, he didn't move. Not for a lack of coffee, he was holding the cup. And still watching the drawing. On a whim, Grantaire handed it to him.

\- Do you want it ?

Enjolras finally looked at him. He was even prettier right now. Maybe because Grantaire thought he didn't want to come back ever again, and here he was, in front of him. It was unheard of. it was mystery, some kind of magic at work. He was dreaming. And since he was in a dream, he could do anything he wanted, right ? Without consequences. Like leaning on the counter to be closer from Enjolras, and ask him something wild, like if he wanted to go on a date with him. 

Exactly what he was doing. He could hear the words as they left his lips, unable to stop them.

\- Do you want to go to the market with me ? The Christmas one ?

Enjolras frowned, and Grantaire immediatly knew that he messed up. Of course Enjolras didn't want to go anywhere with him, he didn't want to be seen with him, of course not. People like Grantaire could only admire people like him from the side, but never step into the light. He had overstepped, greatly, and he was going to regret it. 

\- A market ? Enjolras asked. Do you really think it's a way to celebrate Christmas, just buy and buy ?

Grantaire needed a few seconds to get his mind back. When he did, everything that Enjolras said hit him in the face.

\- No ! No, I don't mean... going to the mall, I mean... you know, the Christmas market, with all the stalls and lots of delicacies and good smells and...

Oh right, now he was babbling like an idiot.

\- I mean, he corrected himself, people there sell things, yes, but it's mostly crafts, hand-made things, that kind of things. We should encourage artists and the like instead of of turning to malls and the like. You... don't think so ?

Enjolras mulled over it for a few seconds, during which Grantaire's life flashed before his eyes. 

\- I guess you're right.

Grantaire was happy to hear it, but that was not an acceptation, not really.

\- So ? he pressed as gently as he could. What do you think ?

A new silence, a bit longer. 

\- Okay, Enjolras finally said. 

\- Great. I'll meat you near the waffle stand at seven, what do you think ?

Enjolras nodded, grabbed his coffee and left. Grantaire grabbed a broom to keep his mind busy, and started sweeping a floor already perfectly clean. A date ! He had a date with Enjolras ! And Enjolras _agreed_ to it ! His heart felt like it had grew at least five sizes, and soon, his feet wouldn't touch the ground any more. He just couldn't wait. Just a few more hours. Just a few.

~*~

Enjolras arrived at the christmas market at 6:54 very precisely. He'd always liked being on time. Grantaire was already there, standing near a small house-shaped shack with fake snow on the roof, that smelled extremely sugary. He wasn't wearing his apron, of course he wasn't, but a leather jacket on a nice sweater. He still had his beanie on, but his curls had been combed. He looked very much like the person who didn't want to look like they were waiting for someone. 

Enjolras stepped forwards. Grantaire saw him, and his entire face lit up. Enjolras smiled back. They stayed like that for a few awkward seconds, trying to find something to say that wouldn't sound too cheesy or stupid. 

\- Thank you for coming, Grantaire finally said. it's cool you could make it.

\- I promised I would, didn't I ?

\- Technically, you didn't promise, you just accepted. 

\- Do you really want me there, or are you trying to convince me ?

Grantaire looked taken aback for a second, and Enjolras quickly waved his hands around.

\- No, sorry, he amended, this is not what I mean. I just... Okay. Let's start again, shall we ? 

\- Okay, Grantaire nodded. I'm, like, super happy you could come, I could even do a little dance.

\- Please don't.

\- Hey, I'll have you know that I'm an excellent dancer, and I'll prove it. But for now, how about we get to the visit ?

\- Nice idea. I've... never been to a christmas market, Enjolras confessed.

\- Then you're in the right hands, because I'm the perfect guide.

He made a gesture to get closer, then seemed to decide against it, and instead showed hi the market. Enjolras passed the small gate made of an ornate wood panel, and Grantaire followed suit. 

The market wasn't very big, maybe two dozens shacks like the waffle one, arranged around a circular alley, around a very large christmas tree. Enjolra shad alwayw been against the tradition of wasting so much money on a day that didn't have any meaning anymore besides being an ode to consumerism, and so had never visited anything that ressembled this. The little houses were each lit in gold, presenting trinkets or food and drinks, beckoning people closer and praising their merchandises. All kind of people were striding through and pressing near the shacks, talking and laughing. There were shiny things everywhere, and lights, and sounds, and music, and people. He didn't even know where to look. Everything was starting to mix together, sights and sounds together.

\- Hey, you alright ?

Grantaire's arm grabbed his, very gently, brought him a little closer. Enjolras breathed a little better. Not that he wanted to recognize it, but crowds could easily make him uneasy and uncomfortable ; standing above them on a stage was very different than walking through them, and it could swamp him easily. But it felt less overwhelming with someone at his side. Grantaire started to walk through the shacks, one by one, taking all his time, commenting everything he was seeing, navigating them with ease through the crowd, avoiding people or spots too loud or rowdy. The feeling of oppression receeded, and Enjolras was able to admire the hand-made lamps, shelves and jewelry without panicking. It felt weird, being held so close to someone like this, but it kept the panic at bay, and that was good. Also, Grantaire was polite and charming with anyone, and his running commentary was funny. And he smelled like pine and something else that he couldn't identify but was nice none-the-less. And he found out that he liked it a lot.

~*~

Grantaire was over the Moon. Scratch that, over Mars, Jupiter, Saturn even. He was currently walking through the most romantic place in town at this time of the year, holding close to the cutest boy in town, and said cutest boy did it willingly ! He could have died right now and not regret a thing. Okay, maybe a few, but the idea was there. Enjolras was almost hanging off his arm, and he had to slow down as to not drag him along. 

He had feared for Enjolras, and for the date, when he'd seen his face pale and he almost ran away, and he'd try to make him feel better. It had worked, because Enjolras was now way chipper, and was going with him from shack to shack, admiring every little thing. It was very cute to see him so amazed by everything, and Grantaire's heart was beating so hard he was sure everyone could hear him over the christmas music. 

They were slowly circling around the market, and soon they'd have seen everything. Grantaire wasn't sure Enjolras would be up for a second turn, even if he seemed to enjoy himself. But he didn't want the date to end. He'd want it to stay forever, but that wouldn't be an option, he knew it. But maybe a little longer....

He dragged Enjolras towards the christmas tree. There was a tiny house, barely the size of a cupboard, that served hot chocolate and christmas cookies. He went to the counter to order two. He had to let go of Enjolras' arm to do that, and he was ready to see him bolt, but no, Enjolras just waited for him. Grantaire handed him the chocolate and the cookies. 

\- Be careful, he said. They are addictive.

Enjolras shot him a look, but he ate it anyway. Judging by his expression, he quickly had to amend his opinion. 

\- Those are delicious ! 

\- Right ? I mean, they are mostly a piece of butter in cookie form, but they are delicious. Here, dunk one in your chocolate.

Enjolras did so, and swallowed the cookie. He smiled, the same luminous smile that sent butterflies in Grantaire's stomach.

\- Thank you, he said. This... is very nice. Thank you for the date. 

\- Thank you for coming. 

As he said that, something white and fluffy passed in front of his eyes. Then a second, then many more. He looked up. Was it... snowing ? Yes. Yes, it was. They were having a date under a gigantic christmas tree, and it was snowing. He looked down at the exact moment when a snowflake landed on Enjolras' nose, making him a little crosseyed. It was adorable and Grantaire couldn't help to laugh a little. Enjolras didn't look offended by the outburst, he just wiped his nose, wrinkling it a little. If he was going to keep being this cute, Grantaire was going to need some medical help quickly. 

The snow was getting thicker, adding small spots of white on Enjolras' hair. He was even beautiful like that, like wearing a crown shining like stars. Grantaire still wasn't totally sure he wasn't dreaming. Even at his most romantic and idealistic, he hadn't pictured anything like this : him, almost hand in hand with an adorable boy, under the snow, at christmas. It was the best present ever. And said boy was looking at him, like he was happy to be with him. Without thinking, he held out his hand. 

\- Care to dance ? With me ?

Enjolras looked confused for a second. The only music playing was a traditionnal christmas song, not really dancing music. or maybe he was just pondering if it was a good idea or not. After a few tensed seconds, he gingerly took Grantaire's hand, and put his free hand on his shoulder. Grantaire almost didn't dare to put his on Enjolras' waist. It seemed almost... profane. But nothing burst into flames when he did, Enjolras just moved a little.

They started moving, slowly, under the long branchs covered with tinsel. Enjolras was quite grateful, and luckily, Grantaire didn't step on his feet. It was magical, holding him close like this, dancing with him in the snow. 

\- I told you I was the best dancer, Grantaire said to break the spell.

\- I will need more proof.

Grantaire made him spin, getting a squeak out of him. He caught him back, hand back on his waist.

\- See ?

\- Okay. I'll admit it. 

\- Thank you.

They fell back into silence, looking at each other. Grantaire couldn't look away from those blue eyes, and Enjolras wasn't either.

\- Enjolras, Grantaire muttered.

\- What ?

\- I'd really like to kiss you.

Enjolras just blinked, and Grantaire suddenly realized what he'd say.

\- Fuck, I mean, I don't want to... No, please, ignore everything I said. I shouldn't ask for this like this, and it's not... It's not because we're... Sorry, I'm messing everything up.

There was a squeeze on his hand, and Enjolras stepped a little closer.

\- You want to ?

\- Yes, but...

\- I think... I think I'd like it too.

What ? Did he hear clearly ? He could recognize the song playing over their heads, so he hadn't suddenly lost his hearing. But that couldn't be right. And still, Enjolras was looking at him, almost... expectantly. 

Grantaire bent down, very slowly, leaving Enjolras all the time in the world to run away if he wanted. But he didn't. The kiss was light, almost chaste, and very short. Grantaire didn't want to run his luck, and he straightened up almost immediatly. Enjolras had closed his eyes, and he didn't open them right away. When he finally did, there was a hint of red on his cheeks, and his smile was... shy. 

Grantaire bent down to lean his forehead against Enjolras'. He wanted to stay like this, but Enjolras sneezed once, twice, almost headbutting him in the process. Grantaire couldn't help but laugh.

\- Talk about a mood swing, he managed to say.

\- Sorry. That was a nice kiss. I didn't want to spoil the moment.

\- Don't worry. We should get you somewhere warm before I only get an ice cube to kiss. 

He grabbed Enjolras by the arm again, gently led him out of the market. 

\- What do you think of stopping by at my place ? I have those christmas cookies, and I can make you the coffee you like. 

That was pushing his luck, he'd already used a lot of it this evening. But Enjolras just stepped a little closer.

\- That would be great. Especially the cookie part. 

-They were right, the way of the heart is really through the stomach. 

Enjolras gave him a nudge that didn't really do anything. Grantaire just laughed. Once again, he offered his arm to Enjolras, who slid his own through it, and together, they started to walk back to his place under the snow.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs are "Que restera-t-il de nous ?" (what will remain of us) by Gauvain Sers, and "(Can't Help) Falling in love with you" by Elvis Presley.  
> Happy end of the year ! ♥


End file.
